


Left for Dead

by crayolamarkers



Category: South Park
Genre: AU, Drug Use, Gen, M/M, Multi, Murder, Murder Mystery, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-30 01:39:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13939800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crayolamarkers/pseuds/crayolamarkers
Summary: Kyle Broflovski was dead.The incident happened seven years ago. And with his death, everything changed. His family was broken: Sheila went mad, Gerald disappeared, and Ike was lost to drugs.But to Kyle's friends, his death couldn't end there. They'd find out who did this to him, and bring them in for justice.





	Left for Dead

Kyle Broflovski was dead.  
  
The incident happened seven years ago. And it had happened on a December morning.  
  
It was a clear, brisk morning when they had found the body, the morning frost still clinging to his skin and eyelashes as his dull eyes stared up at the bright sky, seeing nothing. His throat had been cut, and the blood had stained his clothes and the snow around him. Blotchy bruises covered his body, and his limbs were splayed out before him.  
  
It had been a group of 10-year-olds who found him. They were just making a snowman, they said, and had stumbled upon the body. They had thought it was a sick joke at first, but when they touched him, more blood had oozed out from his neck wound. The children screamed then ran home, alerting the whole neighborhood of something gone wrong, and their parents had called the police.  
  
Kenny recalled that cold morning. The details of that day were etched into his brain, carved deep with a sharp knife, leaving scars for him to remember forever. Even if he wanted to forget, to drown himself with booze, sex, and drugs to try to help ease the pain, he'd always see it: the green eyes staring back up at him, the voice asking him _why_ , and the blood tainting the snow. Always. The question haunted him.  
  
The day had started with a phone call. It was Stan, screaming at him, yelling that he had to come _right now_ and to hurry, that they _had to go help Kyle._ Stan had said something else at the end, but Kenny couldn't catch it. _Something had happened to Kyle._ His breath caught in his throat, and he ran. He ran as fast as he could that day, running to Stark's Pond, hoping and praying that Kyle was okay.  
  
_But he wasn't okay._  
  
A large crowd had gathered already, and Kenny couldn't see anything. He shoved and pushed his way through, trying to make it to the center when he heard a scream. _Sheila._ It was a shrill scream, and it cut the air, piercing the silence, and breaking the crowd. Kenny made his way forward when high-pitched wailing filled the air, replacing the scream. His heart stopped. Sheila.  
  
Kenny had often heard the mother yell in anger before, but he had never seen her cry. But she was crying, right there in front of him. Mrs. Broflovski was crying. Tears poured from her eyes, and he couldn't believe it. He couldn't comprehend it. It was something new. It was something strange. And it was completely terrifying.  
  
_Please be okay._ The words felt hollow and empty. _Please be okay._ The thought moved slowly, and Kenny could feel his mind filling with heavy fog as dark thoughts threatened to overtake him. _What could make Sheila Broflovski cry like that?_ Don't think about it. _What had she seen?_ Don't think about it. _What had happened to Kyle?_ **Don't think about it.** Kyle was okay. Everything was okay. Everything was going to turn out alright. It was _fine._ Things were _just_ _fine_.  
  
Blue eyes looked steadily forward as Kenny made his way to Sheila. The crowd parted for him, and he easily made his way to her when he saw it. The broken body of Kyle Broflovski in his mother's arms. And then everything fell apart.  
  
_Kyle was dead._ That was the cold, hard truth. _Kyle was dead._  
  
Kenny couldn't breathe; he wanted to scratch out his eyes, his throat, and yell and scream that this was wrong! This was all so very wrong! This wasn't right! It couldn't be! That wasn't Kyle! It wasn't! It just wasn't! The world was spinning, and his vision went blurry. Kenny was frozen, his breaths hitched and short, when time seemed to stop before him. He watched as Sheila knelt beside the body, cradling the lifeless form before her as more thick tears rolled off of her cheeks, splashing down onto the bloodied face looking up at her.  
  
_That wasn't Kyle._ He was adamant. It couldn't be him. _No._ They were wrong. Sheila was wrong. She shouldn't be crying. She shouldn't even be holding that _thing._ _No._ She should be out there looking for her son. Not _this._ She was wrong. Stan was wrong. Everyone was wrong. That wasn't Kyle. It couldn't be.  
  
Kenny looked away from Sheila, and saw Gerald by the trees. He had a look of abject horror on his face, and all color had left him. Kyle's father fell to his knees. A glossy look overtook him, and all life from his eyes were extinguished until there was nothing left. Gerald Broflovski was no longer there.  
  
_Get up!_ Kenny pleaded. _Get up, get up, get up!_ That wasn't Kyle. It couldn't be. _It just wasn't_ _him._ It wasn't him! _So_ _please, get up!_ But Kyle's father didn't stir. The father kept staring at nothing, his eyes now void.  
  
_You're wrong! That is_ _ **not**_ _your son!_ Kenny wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted to beat Gerald with his fists to make him see the truth. _That is not Kyle!_ It couldn't be. Kenny had seen Kyle just last night. Kyle was okay, and Kyle was alive. He was breathing, he was smiling, and he had waved at him, telling him goodnight. That body in Sheila's arms was a fake. An imposter. A fraud. **It couldn't be Kyle.**  
  
Shuffled footsteps approached the scene, and Kenny's train of raucous thoughts were interrupted. He turned to see Ike. _Ike._ Kyle's younger brother was wearing his usual blue footed pajamas, and the little boy shuffled closer, his face a mix of concern and confusion. Kenny looked away. He couldn't see this. He couldn't _watch this.  
_  
“Big... brother...?” Ike had called out softly.  
  
But there was no reply.  
  
Kenny turned to the crumpled body in Mrs. Broflovski's arms, forcing himself to look, forcing himself to stare. _It just couldn't be Kyle. It just couldn't be._ Kenny would look for himself. This body was obviously a fake. An imposter. A joke. A sham. _This wasn't Kyle. It couldn't be._  
But blue eyes recognized the mass of red curls, the dash of freckles across the nose, and the long red eyelashes. Blue eyes stared, and found familiar green eyes staring back up at him. And then Kenny McCormick screamed.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This is my first fanfic! :D
> 
> I hope you enjoy! <3


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